 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
334
L.
THE WOODS.
Ye brave old pines! I court your cooling shade;The circling air amid your branches sweeps,
And, checked by you, the day-star's fervor sleeps,
Or here his hot artillery is stayed;
I from my covert view him undismayed,
And snap my fingers in his burning face,
As he peeps in where arching trees enlace,
And ask myself the question,—“Who 's afraid?”
Ah, many times have I thus onward strayed,
In meditation lost, or sportive bent,
Where every moment such enjoyment lent,
All other scenes were dull by contrast made.
My lad! your fancy now a trick has played,
You 're lost, as sure as fate, by the erratic jade.
| Rhymes with reason and without | |